Life in New York City
by JackiLeigh formerly Jackilee
Summary: What if Neal hadn't run at the end of Judgment Day? Continued-per request.
1. Chapter 1

Life In New York City

**AN: This is just a little one shot, another view of Judgment Day. A 'what if Neal didn't run?' view. I hope you like it. Thanks, in advance, to all of you who will review and/or alert. Jackie **

"You didn't run!" Peter stated, surprised as he entered Neal's apartment, without knocking, and found him there.

"Was I supposed to?" Neal asked.

"Well," Peter nodded. "…I expected it."

"I considered it. But, like I said, Peter, this is my home. I know Kramer could take me to D.C. I know he wants me there. I can't run from that. It won't' help. It'll only make things worse, for you and for me. It'll only postpone the inevitable."

"You sound like you're resigned to go to D.C." Peter said, surprised by Neal's reaction.

"No, not really…" Neal replied. "…but I can't let myself think it couldn't happen either. He…Kramer has found some stuff to use against you, against me. And the bad thing is he didn't have to look too hard to find it." Neal shook his head. "The treasure, the thing with Kate…." Neal shook his head.

"The treasure was never found to be in your possession." Peter replied.

"Officially." Neal corrected.

"And you didn't get on that plane with Kate, you turned around." Pete continued.

"I narrowly escaped death." Neal stated.

"You've done well here." Peter said.

"I could do well in D.C." Neal replied.

"He's not going to take you! Kramer will not have you working for him in D.C." Peter insisted.

Neal stood up shaking his head. "You don't have the last word here, Peter. You don't get the final say."

"I'll talk to Hughes. I'll…." Peter scrambled.

"Thank you." Neal said as he gave Peter a quick hug. "I…you've done a lot for me. You trusted me. Few people in my life have done that. I'm not talking about the anklet thing. I mean…you trusted me where it counted, with Elle and Satch. I…I won't forget that."

THE END? (What do you guys think?)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks guys, I am so glad you wanted me to continue this. I have some ideas. I want to see if they will work. I will go ahead and issue a tissue alert. I'm not sure the degree. The very last part of chapter one had me a little misty-eyed, so I'm not a good judge.**

"You can take any of the clothes you want, Neal." June said as she looked in the closet at the clothes that used to be her late husbands. She kept wiping her eyes, hoping Neal would not notice. "Take them all, they're yours."

Neal shook his head. "I just. I can't June. These…they belonged to Byron."

June nodded. "They _belonged _to Byron. But they _belong _to you. And you look very handsome in them." She continued to look through the closet.

June then turned to Neal. "Hold out your hand." June placed something in his hand and then folded his hand over it. "I want you to have this."

Neal didn't know what it was. He hadn't looked yet. "June…you've given me so much, this place, these clothes. You…."

June patted his hand, stopping him. "This is a very old pocket watch. I…I gave it to Byron as an anniversary gift."

Neal opened his hand and looked at the gift. It, indeed, was a very old, very expensive pocket watch. He held it up and then opened it.

Neal shook his head.

"You know…at the commutation hearing I told them that you were like a son to me. I said it then to play upon their sympathies, of course. But," June paused. "...I meant it. I really did. I don't know how I would have explained a white boy to Byron."

The remark got a smirk from Neal.

June continued. "I guess I could have just told him I had a torrid affair with the postman." June replied, smiling through her tears. "I realize now, Neal, how true what I told them was. I can't explain it. I know what you are. I know who you are. But…" She put her hand on his chest. "…I know you have a good heart. And I've seen, just a tiny glimpse of who you can be. The young man who walked in my door three years ago is not the same young man who will be walking out today." June paused. "That young man couldn't really see a future. The man in front of me now looks forward to one."

Neal blinked and tears rolled down his cheeks. "We don't say goodbye."

June smiled as she hugged him tightly. "No goodbyes…just so long, until we meet again."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**AN: I tried to make a longer chapter, though I have not been able to master the 'long' chapter. I am also issuing another tissue alert (at the end.) Jackie**

There had been no party. Nobody was happy he was leaving. Even the agents who had not liked Neal in the beginning had grown, by now, to like him. Reese Hughes was even sorry to see him go.

Peter had the day marked on his calendar. And he was not one to mark anything on the calendar. Him forgetting his and Elle's anniversary over the years had been proof of that. But this, this was different. He was losing a dear friend, and it hurt a lot more than he could ever admit.

"This is it, Neal." Peter said as he put his hand on Neal's shoulder.

"Look Peter, I really, really don't want to have an Oprah Moment with you. So can we not do this and say we did?" Neal asked.

Peter nodded. "It's not going to be the same around here."

"I know." Neal said. "Whatever did you do before you met me?"

"I led a sane, uncomplicated life." Peter replied.

"You mean dull and boring."

"I mean sane and predictable." Peter stated.

"You mean…."

"I mean getting up in the morning and not having to worry if my CI had stolen U-boat treasure. And not worrying that he had been on a multi-million dollar spending spree on some fat-cat's dime."

"I didn't steal the U-boat treasure." Neal said to clarify. "And spending all that guy's money was to draw him out. And if I am not mistaken my actions did get their intended response. I think the FBI arrested him."

"You are the only person I know who can trip, ass-backward, into something and come out smelling like a rose." Peter smirked, shaking his head.

"I am not sure if you meant that as a compliment or not, but that's how I'm taking it." Neal said straightening his tie.

Peter sighed as both he and Neal entered the FBI building together, for the last time.

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"So there was nothing." Elle asked as she and Peter got things ready. Neal was supposed to leave for D.C. tomorrow. And while they didn't want to have a going away party because no one was happy about Neal leaving, except, of course, Kramer. They wanted to have a little get-together. Elle had invited Neal, Jones and Diana over for supper.

Peter shook his head. "I tried, Elle."

"I just wished you could have changed Kramer's mind." Elle replied she finished dressing the salad and put it into bowls.

"Me too, Elle. I talked to him, and talked to him. But he believes I was letting myself get too close to Neal." Peter put the bowls on the table and brought out the wine glasses. He then sat a couple of bottles on the cupboard. "Neal's favorites." He muttered.

"What was that, honey?" Elle asked, not quite hearing what Peter had said.

"Oh, nothing. Kramer is just remembering what happened with his CI…."

"That doesn't mean the same thing is going to happen to you." Elle replied as she drained the pasta and then tossed it in with her special sauce.

Peter nodded. "He was looking out for me…on that point. But then…."

The Burke's door bell rung and Peter excused himself to answer it. It was Diana. She had a bottle of wine and a present in her hand.

"I wasn't sure about the gift thing." Diana admitted. "I've never been in one of these, situations before." She walked into the kitchen.

Elle smiled and shook her head. "We're giving Neal something, too."

Jones showed up next, also with a gift. Neal showed up moments later and the evening began.

The mood of the evening was somber for sure. They had enjoyed the meal. The food had been wonderful and now they were finishing up their deserts. Diana helped Elle clear the table as Neal, Peter and Jones went into the living room with their coffee.

"Elle outdid herself, Peter. The meal was excellent." Neal stated as he took a seat on the couch.

"Elle wanted to make sure she fixed all your favorites." Peter said.

"Probably be the last time I get a home-cooked meal." Neal replied. "I see microwave cuisine in my future."

"You'll have a little kitchen area." Peter said. "Kramer said he was putting you up in a hotel suite. You'll have a separate bedroom and everything. There'll be a kitchenette."

"Kramer talked to you?" Neal asked.

"He was just trying to make me feel better about the whole thing." Peter reasoned. He really had no idea why Kramer had told him about Neal's accommodations.

"So what…a separate bedroom and a kitchenette are supposed to make everything alright? What an ass." Neal declared.

"I tried, Neal. I really did." Peter proclaimed.

"I know you did. I know you talked to Kramer. I know you tried to reason with him. But…he wasn't budging." Neal paused. "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with him. I'm mad at the situation."

No one said anything for a few moments. By this time Elle and Diana had joined them in the living room.

Neal had been eying the pile of packages since he had entered the Burke home. He loved receiving gifts. Even now he was anxious to see what the packages contained.

"We just wanted to give you a few…mementos to remember us by." Elle said, passing the first package to him.

Neal opened it. It was a picture of he, Elle, and Peter taken in the Burke's living room. He looked at Elle and Peter. The picture was really good. Neal had not seen the picture before. He stared at the it now, remembering the occasion. It has been nothing special. Just an occasion where they were all dressed up. Peter and Neal were in tuxes, and Elle was in a black evening gown. Elle was standing between the two men, her arms around both their waists. They were all mugging for the camera.

"Thank you." Neal said, staring at the three people in the frame. It seemed like another place and time for him. Things were so different, now. Neal looked at them, again. His breath hitched in his throat when he realized that this would probably be the last time he would be sitting in their living room like this. "Thank you, so much." Neal repeated after he recovered.

Diana handed him her present next. Neal looked at the picture she had given him in complete surprise. It was taken of the two of them in a hotel room. They were sitting on the couch in the room. They were in white fuzzy bathrobes. And they both were looking directly at the camera.

Neal looked at Diana. Diana smiled. "I asked Mozzie to take a picture of us. I was surprised when he actually did it. He emailed it to me later." Diana explained. "That was the first time I had ever really sat and talked to you. I hadn't expected to spill my guts to you. I rarely talk about Charlie, it's…too painful. But I liked talking to you. I was very, very glad you shared with me."

Neal smiled. He then ducked his head. He didn't want anybody to see his tears.

Jones continued with the gift giving. He had bought Neal a bottle of his favorite wine and wrapped a bow around the neck of the bottle.

"I didn't give you much unwrapping to do." Jones admitted.

Neal nodded, accepting the bottle. "Thank you. This is one of my favorites."

Neal sat the bottle on the floor. He had passed the other two pictures around so everyone could look at them.

"There is one more, Neal." Peter said dragging out a larger wrapped picture. "This is from everybody in the division." Peter handed Neal the picture to open.

Neal looked at the picture, after unwrapping it. It was a picture of every member of the White Collar Division. Some were standing on the upper level, where the conference room was located. There were people standing on the stairs themselves. But, most everybody was standing on the lower level. And Neal and Peter were down front, mugging for the camera.

"We weren't going to let you forget us." Peter replied.

"Not a chance of that." Neal reassured him. "Not a chance."

There was another moment of silence as Neal looked at his gifts.

"Why don't I get everybody some wine?" Elle asked, but not really asking. She went into the kitchen to get a new bottle and grab some fresh glasses. She went instead to the sink and grabbed a dishtowel. She dabbed the tears that had been threatening to flow the entire evening.

"Elle, you…" Neal started as he entered the kitchen.

Elle turned and looked at him.

Neal stopped when he saw Elle dabbing her eyes with the towel. He went over to her and hugged her.

"I'm going to miss you." She managed through her tears, hugging him back

"I'll miss you too, Elle."

"It feels like I've known you a lifetime." Elle said, dabbing her eyes again. "Not just three short years."

"I have that effect on people, I guess." Neal replied, smiling.

Elle shook her head. "Don't make me smile. I want to be sad."

Neal continued. "I've been told it's because I'm charming, witty, and kinda cute."

Elle was now smiling despite herself. "You don't play fair."

Elle broke the hug. She leaned up against the sink, still dabbing her eyes. Neal stood beside her. Neither said anything for a moment or two.

"I need you to take good care of Peter. I know he's upset about what happened with me. But I think he feels betrayed by Kramer. Kramer used the things he knew about Peter, personal things, against him." Neal explained. "And look in on June for me. That house is going to be really big and empty for her now." Neal mused. "I asked Peter to go have coffee with her every once and awhile. If you would invite her to diner, something…." Neal suggested. "Also, if you could find Mozzie, I…I don't know where he is. After I told him about the commutation and D.C., I haven't seen him. He told me goodbye then. But that was almost a week ago now. I just…I need to know that he's okay."

Elle nodded. She promised to do everything Neal had asked.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Neal looked around the airport terminal, half expecting to see Mozzie lurking somewhere in the shadows. But it was just he, Peter and the U.S. Marshall Kramer had sent to New York to collect Neal and bring him to D.C.

Neal had packed only the barest of essentials. He was wearing the clothes he had left prison in three years ago. He was bringing little else. He was even going to have the FBI buy him a new toothbrush and toothpaste. He did carry the pictures and the pocket watch with him though. He needed some very special, important reminders of home. Neal had decided that Byron's clothes, now his clothes, should stay in New York. That was where they belonged. That was where they should be worn. He was going to have Kramer and the D.C. FBI buy him a new wardrobe.

"This is it, Kid." Peter replied.

Neal smiled. He had never heard Peter call him kid before, despite the difference in their ages. He liked it.

"You know…" Peter admitted. "…I never expected to like you. I just figured this deal would last about a year. You would do something stupid, get sent back to prison, and that would be it."

Neal nodded. He understood completely.

"I had just wanted to get out of that cell. And 4 more years seemed like a lifetime." Neal shook his head. "I had no idea…."

Peter and Neal quickly embraced as, overhead, Neal's flight was called to board.

"Take care of yourself, Neal." Peter replied. "What you said about Kramer was right. But I still want you to be nice to the man."

Neal nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Elle and I will be in D.C. in a couple weeks." Peter promised. "Elle is already making sure she has the weekend free."

Neal nodded again. "Gonna miss you guys. " He managed to say.

Peter walked him and the Marshall as far as he could go. He stood inside by the windows and watched the plane until he couldn't see it anymore. By the time Peter got home he was wiping tears from his eyes, his reaction surprising even him.

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The flight was a lot shorter than Neal expected it to be. He had spent the majority of the time asleep or staring out the window. It had worked out well because the marshal sent to get him had not been talkative.

There was a car waiting for them at the airport. The marshal took Neal directly to the Hoover Building and then straight into Kramer's office.

Kramer smiled when his new CI enter the room.

"It's not going to be as bad as all that, Caffrey." Kramer said, reading Neal's expression. "I just ask you to do your job, nothing more, nothing less." Kramer looked at his clothes. "I am surprised by your choice of clothing." Kramer said, remembering his expensive suits.

"The suits belonged to my landlady's dead husband." Neal replied.

Kramer nodded. "Not a problem, there's a thrift shop in your radius. And, as you might expect, it's going to be a much smaller one. You will be on a half-mile leash." Kramer handed Neal his anklet, which he immediately attached to his left leg. Kramer also gave him a map of the area he was permitted to roam. Neal was then given a list of restaurants, movie theaters, museums, etc, all the local attractions. "You will be living across the street, suite number 23." Kramer handed Neal his key. "I have a key to your suite also. And I will be...checking on things, periodically."

Neal knew what that meant. Kramer or, most likely, one of his agents would be searching Neal's room whenever he felt like it. Neal opened his mouth to speak.

"You have no rights here, Neal." Kramer said, stopping him. "We are the ones doing you a favor. You should be sitting, rotting in a jail cell right now. Instead you're out. You are able to do and go wherever you want, within reason."

"Lucky me." Neal muttered.

"Look, you don't like the arrangement, you can always go back." Kramer replied.

Neal just glared at Kramer.

"I know you don't like me." Kramer said matter-of-factly. "You don't have to like me. That's not what this is about."

"No, this is about good PR and high solve rates." Neal replied. "Your rep here is really bad, and your solve rates are even worse."

Kramer took a menacing step towards Neal.

"You don't scare me." Neal replied. "And you won't send me back. It'll look even worse on your record. You take Agent Burke's CI from him, and you can't even handle him for one day." Neal chuckled. "Makes you look like an idiot. You need me. You need me to save your rep."

Kramer glared at him.

"Because, let's face it. "If you really, honestly, truly cared about Peter's rep as much as you claim. You would have…stepped in before now. You wouldn't have waited three years." Neal reasoned out loud. "No, what you were doing was playing a game of 'wait and see.' You wanted to see how things went with me. You knew, by reputation, I was a good thief. You wanted to see me in action as a CI. When you saw the work Peter and I did, you got jealous. You can call it whatever you want. Hide behind your 'caring' for Peter if you want to. I don't care. But between you and me…" Neal pointed at Kramer than at himself. "…we're gonna set the record straight." Neal paused. "It's sad, really sad, when men are too old, stupid, or stubborn to admit they're burned out. Or maybe they're too scared. Maybe the thought of not having a job just scares the hell out of them. Either way, they should step aside and let someone else take over, before their unwillingness to accept the truth gets their fellow agents killed."

"I want you in here at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning." Kramer growled. "Until then…get out!"

"Gladly!" Neal replied. He knew he had struck nerve, and he grinned as he left the room.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

AN: I created Mindy for two reasons, one to give Neal a friend in D.C. And two to help Neal get 'the goods' on Kramer.

Neal emerged from the Hoover Building and walked across the street to his new home. His smile had faded a little. It was, perhaps, not the best thing to confront Kramer like that on his first day. But Neal really didn't like the man. And it had not as much to do with his current situation as it probably should have. It bothered him that Kramer had used things from his own personal relationship with Peter against him. To Neal, that practically shouted a ruthless person, and in his experience, ruthless people were deadly. Neal wanted Kramer to know he had recognized it. Neal had used burnout as an excuse, for Kramer's behavior. And maybe it was true, the man had been working in the FBI for years, maybe he was truly burned out. It almost made Neal wonder if Kramer was putting a target on his back.

Neal used his key and unlocked his door. He was pretty impressed at first glance. He put his bag down on a chair in the small, tastefully decorated living room and headed in the bedroom and bathroom area. There was a supply of full-sized soaps and shampoos. He had even been given a toothbrush and toothpaste. He then checked out the kitchenette, also impressive. He had been given plates, silverware and even napkins. He had a full set of pots and pans. He even had the assorted, essential cooking utensil. He opened the fridge and was surprised to see it had been stocked. There was even a bottle of wine chilling in the door. He took it out, not his flavor. But it would do until he could go shopping for more. He opened the bottle and poured himself a glass. He sat down and toasted himself, 'to his new home.'

Neal then unpacked his meager possessions. He hung the few clothes he had on hangers and put the rest in drawers. He hung the pictures he had received in the bedroom area. Then he pulled out the pocket watch. He needed a very special, safe place for it. He would look for one later. Right now he had to get to the thrift store before it closed.

The girl at the counter, Mindy, looked as if she would have rather been anywhere but there. That was, until Neal walked in. Mindy closed the magazine she had been reading. She checked her make-up and hair in one of the second-hand, for sale, mirrors which hung by the register. She then went to greet her new customer.

"New in town?" Mindy asked approaching.

Neal flashed his smile. "How did you guess?"

"You're not one of our 'regulars.'" Mindy said using air quotes.

"Thrift shops have regulars?"

Mindy nodded. "Sad, isn't it?" She paused. "Even sadder that I would know that."

"You've worked here how long?" Neal asked as he began to peruse the dress shirt rack.

Mindy followed him over. "Almost a year…needed a job to help with tuition." She shrugged. "It pays pretty well, and I don't have to do a heck of a lot."

"Sounds pretty good to me." Neal stated.

"Yeah, if you like unbelievable long stretches of sheer, mind-numbing boredom."

Neal just grinned.

"People come in here and try to bargain with me." Mindy explained. She took a hold of the sleeve of a shirt, still on the hanger on the rack. "This guy tried to get me to take 25 cents for this shirt. It's only priced at a dollar. I mean, come on. I told the guy to go to the Goodwill."

Mindy looked at Neal, she blushed a little. "Sorry, I didn't mean to run off at the mouth like that. But I get so few people in here who actually want to just talk." She smiled at him. "It's kinda nice."

Neal flashed one of his million dollar smiles. He hurried and bought a few things. He would come in on another day when he had more time to shop. He just needed enough items to get him through the first few days.

Neal was in Agent Kramer's office at 9 a.m. sharp. His appearance was changed purposefully from his New York days. He now opted for slacks and nice dress button-down shirts that didn't require jackets. Neal stood by the chair in Kramer's office, waiting for permission to be seated.

Neal sat only when he was directed to do so.

"Listen Caffrey," Kramer started. "…I allowed you to say what you did yesterday because I know you are going to need a period of adjustment. I know after 3 years you were getting…comfortable. But the problem is, so was Peter. He was starting to let you…slide on things, Caffrey. Its things that Peter's boss would not have let him get away with, if he knew what was happening."

Neal opened his mouth to speak.

Kramer shook his head. "You don't get to respond here. You know exactly what I mean."

Neal did know, and several of the said incidences went through his mind. He remained silent.

"Yes, Caffrey, I'll admit, my solve rates would be higher if I had you as my CI." Kramer stated. "And I can be hard to get along with. I'm driven and I get results, if that makes me an ass, then I'm an ass."

Again, Neal remained silent.

"Peter made the same fatal mistake that I did. He got too close to his CI. We forget these people are criminals, Mr. Caffrey. We think we have them…rehabilitated and they just go back to their old ways the first chance they get. Which is why I wanted you here, you are on a shorter leash and you live where you can be easily monitored." Kramer paused. "I have you here to do a job. That is what you are to do. That is all you are to do. You won't con me. I won't allow it. I'm not your buddy. I'm not your friend. So the incident yesterday was and is a onetime thing. I…allowed you to express yourself. It allowed you to get out all that emotion." Kramer replied. "I need you ready and focused and that's what you'll be. You stay within your radius and out of trouble, and we'll get along just fine."

Neal soon learned Kramer's rules. First and foremost, Neal was not to speak until he was spoken too. He, in reality, did very little without Kramer's knowledge. Kramer seemed to notice a difference in his CI in a few weeks time.

"You never answered my question, Caffrey." Kramer said as he and Neal sat in Kramer's office.

Neal looked at Kramer for a moment. He had thought about it, not about the question its self, but about why Kramer was asking.

"When I figure out what you really want, I'll give you my answer." Neal replied. He got up to leave.

"It's a Thanksgiving dinner, Neal. And you have no family in D.C." Kramer explained. He was beginning to realize the results of the strangle hold he had on Neal. He was trying, in his own way, to ease it.

"I don't think what I do over the holiday is any of your concern, Agent Kramer." Neal replied. "I will be well within my radius, and I won't be breaking the law." Neal turned to leave again.

"Neal…I…." Kramer started. He heard the cold professionalism in Neal's voice. And he sighed, letting Neal leave.

Neal had been right. Kramer had told Neal that he was basically just a tool Kramer needed to do his job. Neal had performed his job, very well. Kramer was enjoying a very high solve rate. He was getting commendations from his superiors. But the man who really deserved the credit got nothing. Kramer had denied him that pleasure, that right. Kramer had taken all the glory for himself. And now, in the wake of realizing Kramer's many, many mistakes he was trying to make things right. Kramer had very unmercifully, and he was afraid, irrevocably, broken Neal's spirit.

"Have a nice holiday, Sir." Neal said before he left.

Kramer sighed as he packed up his things and left his office. He left the building in time enough to see Neal cross the street and enter the building. Kramer shook his head, his heart heavy despite the holiday season.

TBC

**END NOTES: I know you are wondering where Mozzie is in all this. The next chapter will tell all. Thanks again to all my reviewers and alerters. Jackie**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

AN: Thank you to Duffer1960 for the idea about undermining Kramer. I hope you like what I came up with. Jackie

Mozzie has been frantic when he go t he news about Neal going to D.C. He had not known Neal long, really, in the grand scheme of things only 8 years. Mozzie couldn't classify his and Neal's friendship. They shared a special bond, no doubt. They were friends. He was Neal's mentor. They had been co-conspirators. Mozzie trusted Neal with his life. That meant if Neal went to D.C., then Mozzie went to D.C.

Mozzie spent his time preparing to leave. He had wanted to be on the same plane with Neal. But he was unable to get his affairs in order as quickly as he would have liked. He arrived in D.C. a day after Neal. He used his D.C. contacts to find out where Neal was living. Mozzie cringed at the thought o f Neal living that close to the FBI building.

Neal heard a knock on his door. He had just left Kramer, so he could not imagine it would be him. Neal opened his door to a huge surprise.

"Hello, Monfraire. Mozzie said.

Neal stepped aside and let Mozzie in. Neal smiled as he embraced his friend.

"Moz, I…" Neal started. "…I couldn't find you. After I told you about D.C. you just…left."

Mozzie nodded. "I had to make preparations to leave New York. I…I wanted to meet up with you at the airport. But I was having trouble closing up Wednesday." He explained. "I had to delay my departure."

Neal's smile got bigger. "Where are you staying?"

"Here." Mozzie replied, producing the key to his room. "I'm in suite number 35?"

"You're upstairs?" Neal asked.

"So, how was your first day?" Mozzie asked as he and Neal shared a bottle of wine.

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Mozze and Neal planned and schemed right under Kramer's nose. Kramer checked Neal's anklet several times a day after work and on weekends. So Neal worked with in his radius. Neal's job was mostly the planning. And he enjoyed it immensely. Mozzie would be the one to actually steal the piece. And Neal and Mozzie would hand it off to another fencer. They had, in a short amount of time, a Monet, a Degas, and a Rembrandt to their credit.

The Monet had been at a poorly-guarded traveling exhibit. The guards were local rent-a-cops. They were supposed to watch the exhibit after hours. But they took long breaks and even fell asleep during the long, boring graveyard shift. Mozzie just walked right past the sleeping guard.

The Degas had been a little more difficult, but not much. It had been in a senator's home. It was Mozzie's knock against the establishment. The alarm system was good, but not the best. After all, who would have the…nerve to rob a United States Senator. It was an un-American. Mozzie just took advantage of a frequent evening out. He overrode the system and had plenty of time to search the house for treasurers. There were several, but Mozzie only took the one. He relished that painting and kept it for a day, actually hanging it in his suite.

The Rembrandt had been sold to them. Undersold as it happened, because the person who had it believed it to be a fake, he told Mozzie as much. Neal authenticated it and then Mozzie had it fenced for a very healthy profit.

The best part for Mozzie and Neal was Kramer's reaction. Art Crimes investigated both the exhibit and the senator's house. Kramer had wanted to nail Neal so bad for the crimes, he could taste it. But Neal's anklet records showed that he was nowhere near either place at the time of the thefts.

Kramer knew nothing about Mozzie. He had never met the man and had no knowledge of his residence a floor above Neal. Kramer's frustration made Neal extremely happy. There were no clues, no evidence. Mozzie had made no mistakes and he had not fenced any of the items himself. There were enough layers, protection, so that no item could be linked back to him or to Neal. And Mozzie shared his profit 50/50.

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Kramer had kept his word. He 'checked out' Neal's suite on a regular basis. He found nothing, of course, which was a source of never-ending frustration for him. Kramer also had agents watching Neal's movements outside work. They were stationed across the street from the entrance to the hotel. Neal also found bugs in his living room and behind paintings in his bedroom. He considered removing and destroying them. But he knew Kramer and his cohorts would just replace them in his next 'sweep.' Neal bought a radio and put it near the bug in his bedroom. He put the station on talk radio. He turned the volume down so low that the bug only picked up what sounded like whispers. Those monitoring the bugs were utterly frustrated that they couldn't understand what was being said.

Neal moved the second bug to the back of his fridge. There it picked up the whine of the motor. It bought him a few days until the next 'sweep' took place, and the bug was found, removed and replaced.

Neal started, the second week of street surveillance, to bring coffee to the agents who survailled him in his off hours. Neal had noticed them almost immediately. It was the only car that managed to stay parked in the same area. And since his windows faced that street, the only ones who seemed to stay within sight of his windows.

Neal then decided to have a little more 'fun' with Kramer. And Kramer was beyond pissed when he found out Neal had moved to another room and had not told him. Neal had told the landlord that the heat was not working properly. He also said that the kitchen sink leaked. It was all true, but it was not something he couldn't live with. At any rate, Kramer's agents were very surprised and confused when they went to 'sweep' Neal's apartment. Especially when they opened the door and an 85 year-old Ethel Richards was sitting on the couch watching 'I Love Lucy.' Ethel called across the street and threatened to sue the federal government for 'unlawful entry.' That was even after her visitors had apologized profusely. Neal, meanwhile, had asked for a suite in the back of the building that could to be survailled from the street.

Kramer, of course, lit into Neal for not letting him know of the room change. Neal told Kramer that he assumed that the landlord would tell him. Kramer, surprisingly, didn't ask Neal to move back. And about a month after the incident, Kramer had the bugs removed from Neal's apartment. He then, a little while later, stopped the searches.

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Mozzie noticed the change in Neal. That had been one of the reasons for the thefts. They had taken their time planning things. Also, for Neal's benefit to get his mind off his job. Mozzie could tell that he was just not enjoying himself anymore.

Neal didn't talk about Kramer the way he had Peter. Neal, in fact, rarely mentioned Kramer's name.

"What has he done to you?" Mozzie asked as they both sat in Mozzie's living room, drinking wine.

Neal sighed. 'He' as Neal called Kramer. "He…it's been miserable. He monitors the calls into my apartment." Neal stated. "June and Peter have my number, but they can't call me here. I had to get a burn phone under a new alias. I got a P.O. Box too, under the same name. He can't trace it." Neal handed Mozzie a key. "I've got a safe-deposit box." Neal explained. "I have the pocket watch June gave me in it. I…I met a woman here…" Neal said, referring to D.C. "…Mindy. She works at the thrift store down the street."

Mozzie nodded. He had been in and had met Mindy.

"She told me about a few of Kramer's CIs. Peter doesn't know the half of it. She said she would see the CIs. She would talk to them….

"How did she know they were Kramer's, specifically?" Mozzie asked.

"She said they would describe Kramer to her. It wasn't long before she attached a name. She said she would see them one day and then not see them again." Neal paused. "She gave me a few names. But then I started looking around and I found a list."

Mozzie didn't know what to say, but he didn't like the direction this conversation was heading.

Neal continued. "I checked them out using FBI resources. I made copies of files. Kramer's history with his CIs is not good. They have been injured under his watch. Some have even opted to go back to prison."

Mozzie took a big swallow of his wine. "…not good…not good at all."

Neal nodded. "The handlers have to record any problems they have with their CIs, anything from a simple illnesses to death. Other handler's have a very low percentage of problems. Kramer's percentage is 5 times the norm. I have the proof. It's in that safety-deposit box."

"Neal," Mozzie said, concerned about Neal's tone. "…I don't like what I'm hearing here."

"I…if something…happens…." Neal started.

Mozzie opened his mouth.

Neal shook his head. "You call Peter, you get my key. I'll show you where I'm going to hide it. And I want you to take everything to Peter. I want you to give June her watch back."

"Neal, I…." Mozzie started. He was terrified for his friend. "You can't go back! You don't have to. We have money! You, me and Lolanna…we can…."

Neal shook his head. "I won't live with a bulls-eye on my back.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Neal!" Mindy said as soon as she saw Neal enter the store. Neal had only been in a handful of times. But she considered him a friend. She liked him and she had noticed a change in his personality. It bothered her.

"You need to get yourself another job, Sweetheart." Mindy said, matter-of-factly.

Neal looked up at her from the rack of clothes he had been perusing.

"You've changed." Mindy explained. "I haven't seen you smile in a very long time."

Neal was miserable. He hadn't told anyone. But with Mozzie saying it, and now Mindy, he knew it had to be true. It had to be showing. He had hoped he had covered it better. Kramer had even invited Neal to his home for Thanksgiving for goodness sake. Neal had declined, of course. Just the 'thought' of having to make nice with the Kramer clan made him lose his appetite.

"I'm okay." Neal said, without conviction.

Mindy studied him for a moment. "I like you. You know that. If you need anything, you'll call me. And I'm a great listener." She handed Neal her number.

Neal took the number and smiled. Mindy was a friend, like a little sister might be, and he loved her for her concern.

Mindy smiled back. "There's that 100-watt smile I've been missing." She hugged him. "Be careful." She whispered in his ear. She didn't know why she had said it and that fact scared her.

Neal looked at Mindy for just a moment. 'Why had she said that?'

Mindy looked at him. "Please, be careful." Again, she was not sure why she was saying it.

Neal was even more rattled. He felt the target on his back grow larger.

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Neal held his hand to his chest. He had a belly wound. The bullet had entered just below his ribcage on the left side.

Neal had been sent in to pose as an art buyer. The seller got spooked. Neal had backed away and was almost out the door before the seller pulled out his gun. The shot rang out just as Kramer and his agents entered the room.

"You…did…this…." Neal managed to say through the pain and the blood. He coughed and looked into Kramer's eyes as Kramer pressed his hands to Neal's wound. He was trying to stop the bleeding.

Kramer shook his head.

"What…I said…you never…." Neal's body went limp as his eyes slid closed.

Neal had gripped Kramer's arm with surprising strength. Neal's grip loosened. He left a bloody hand print on the sleeve of Kramer's jacket.

The EMTs arrived in seconds. They quickly loaded Neal into the ambulance and drove away.

Kramer remained on his knees on the ground for a few moments. He looked at the blood on his hands. He fingered his bloody jacket sleeve. Neal's words echoed in his brain. Had it been true? No one else had even gotten a scratch on the case. But Neal Caffrey was shot and fighting for his life.

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Peter Burke answered his phone after the third ring. He listened for a moment and was suddenly wide awake. He woke Elle, giving her an abbreviated version of the call. He then called agents Jones and Barrigen. He even called Hughes.

Moments later Peter and Elle were on their way to the airport to catch a red-eye to D.C.

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Peter paced the ICU waiting room. Neal was in recovery at the moment. He had severe internal bleeding and multiple organ damage.

Neal was to go to the ICU and be placed on a ventilator, for a day or two, to allow his body to heal.

"Petee…I …." Kramer began.

Peter turned to glare at his former mentor and friend. "I had him with me 3 years…3 years." Peter seethed. "The worst thing, the very worst thing that happened to him was a scalp laceration. You've had him 5 months, and he's shot." Peter stood toe-to-toe with Kramer. "Where the hell were you?"

Kramer replied. "Careful here, Peter. Be very careful." He warned.

Peter ignored him. "He was yours." Peter replied. "He was yours and…what happened? Did you forget that, or did he just piss you off?"

Peter read Kramer's reaction.

"Neal is a smart-ass. That is who he is. That's what he does." Peter paused. "Did you really expect him to be happy about being here? I'm guessing you told him just to be over it. You put your leash around his neck, and you strangled him."

Peter looked up when the door to the recovery room opened. Peter immediately went to the stretcher that was taking Neal to his room in the ICU. Peter looked down at his friend. His heart ached. Neal looked so weak. He was pale, and he was way too still. Peter slipped his hand into Neal's. "You're gonna be okay, Neal. It's Peter. Elle and I are here. You're gonna be fine. I promise." Peter whispered.

Kramer approached the Neal's stretcher.

"Stay the hell away from him!" Peter growled. "He's coming back to New York. I don't care if it costs me my JOB!"

"I didn't mean of this to happen." Kramer said as he watched Neal being wheeled into his room. "Things went bad. The guy got nervous. I don't know…."

"I do." Peter said, pacing. "I do. I know exactly."

"Petee…."

"You never liked questions, just 110% obedience. I learned that quickly. You love control. And you despise having your authority questioned."

Kramer remained silent, but glared.

"You wanted him as a tool in your belt." Peter paused. "What happened to you? Where did you lose your humanity?" Peter asked, his anger dissolving slowly. He felt tired, hurt, and disillusioned.

"Peter, I…I never wanted Caffrey to be injured."

Elle, meanwhile, had managed to get himself into Neal's room. She was standing by Neal's bed, holding his hand in both of hers.

"He's too still…" Elle observed. She had heard her husband walk into the room. "…too quiet."

Peter slipped his arm around her waist. "He's gonna make it. He got through the surgery. He'll be fine. It's all downhill from here."

Kramer had followed Peter to the room. He stood in the doorway.

"You said I allowed my CI to go into a situation that I weren't sure he would come out of. Those are some pretty strong damning accusations." Kramer replied, slipping back into his old ways.

"Classic Kramer…" Peter said. "…that's what we called it, your defense mode. I know how you'll spin this, Kramer." Peter paused. "You'll say Caffrey 'went off the script.' But I will testify in a court of law…he doesn't do that. He understands the danger. He gets it."

Kramer knew Peter would do just what he said. He had a life outside the FBI. Kramer sadly, after all these years, did not. Kramer nodded. "He belongs in New York, Petee." Kramer relented. "I am sorry for this."

Peter didn't speak. He was too stunned. He had expected Kramer to fight him. He had expected to be seriously threatened. And while Kramer had issued a threat, it was a mild one. 'Was it possible Kramer actually felt guilty?' Peter could not wrap his mind around it.

"I am truly sorry, Peter." Kramer replied before he turned around and left the room.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Neal Caffrey opened his eyes in New York City. He looked around at a room full of familiar faces. He tried to move, his injuries stopped him. He groaned. It brought back what had happened.

"Why…in…D.C.?" Neal whispered to Peter, who was standing closest to the bed.

Peter smiled down at his friend. He squeezed Neal's hand.

Neal felt fingers in his hair and smelled a very familiar perfume. He turned towards the scent. He smiled, weakly, at his visitor. He was surprised to see June in D.C. by his bedside.

"June…?" Neal started.

"You're not in D.C. anymore, Darling." June said, as she brushed his bangs off his forehead.

"You're back in New York." Elle chimed in. She was smiling, now. Neal could tell that there had been tears, but, at least, she was smiling now. She looked down at him for her position beside Peter.

Neal was still very confused. "…not …in D.C.?" He looked at the faces of the people surrounding his bed.

"I'll explain later, when you're stronger." Peter promised as a nurse and Neal's doctor entered the room. "These guys need to check you out first. We'll talk about it all when you're stronger." The nurse then ushered them all out of the room.

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Four days had passed since Neal had woken up in a New York City hospital. And he had recovered quickly. He was ready, he thought, to hear what had happened in the past few days he had been unconscious.

Peter was sitting by Neal's bed reading the paper when Neal cleared his throat.

"Water?" Peter asked, offering to pour Neal a fresh glass from the pitcher on his bedside table.

Neal shook his head. "What happened?"

Peter put his paper down and studied his friend for a moment. Peter had wanted to make sure Neal was strong enough to hear what he had to say.

"You're sure."

Neal nodded.

"You've had a bad couple weeks." Peter stated.

Neal nodded, again. He knew that too.

Peter relented. "I got a 3 a.m. phone call from Kramer telling me you had been shot. He waited to call, unsure how I would take it. Well, I didn't take it too well. I took the red eye to D.C. When I got right in his face and told him what I thought of…things." Peter paused, he grinned when he saw Neal smile.

Peter continued. "I told him you were coming back to New York with me."

"That had to go over well." Neal replied.

Peter nodded. "It actually went much better than I expected. I thought that he would raise hell." Peter paused. "And he did threaten me a little, not as much as I expected him to. He actually told me you belonged in New York."

Neal looked at Peter, shocked. "So…I'm not going back?"

Peter shook his head. "The things Mozzie brought me. The information you had gathered…it caused an IA, Internal Affairs, investigation. Kramer has been put on indefinite suspension, until the investigation is complete. They are also setting a date for the hearing."

"I didn't exactly gather it by the most…ethical means." Neal stated.

Peter shook his head. "No, but it was all in the FBI records. If I.A. had been tipped off and had investigated it on their own, if they would have taken the time to compare his records…."

"I'm sorry, Peter."

Peter just looked at Neal.

"He was a friend, your mentor. He…."

Peter shook his head. "He was, Neal. He was a lot of things." Peter paused. "I knew what the man was capable of. I've always known. I never thought he would have turned it on me. When he first…when he told me he was going to take you to D.C. He…he told me he thought you should never be free. He told me you, and people like you, needed to stay in jail. The best thing that you could do, in his eyes, was to live your life on the anklet. He was going to make sure you never got your freedom." Peter sighed. "I told him that after you served your time, your life was yours to do as you wished. He…Kramer just didn't see it that way."

"What do you think will happen to him?" Neal asked.

"THAT man deserves whatever they throw at him, Neal." Peter replied. "The man I met at Quantico. The man I trained under. He was absolutely nothing like that man."

"I am still very sorry." Neal replied.

"So am I, Neal, so am I." Peter sighed.

THE END


End file.
